The Ghost of New Year's Resolutions

Here's hoping everyone had a fun New Year's Eve, and I wish you all the very best in 2014; good health, joy, and success in every endeavor. I thought I would start off  the New Year with a special Wednesday's Guest, The Ghost of New Year's Resolutions. This piece is one I wrote back when I did my humor column for a newspaper, and it is always fun to revisit it. Enjoy! 

Normally, when it came to New Year's resolutions, I tried not to demand too much of myself, preferring to do something simple like giving up escargot. But one year, in the interest of strengthening my character, I decided it was time to exercise a little self-discipline. I swear it had nothing to do with the strange dream I had the week prior.

In the dream, a cloudy apparition hovered over the foot of my bed and called my name, “Maryann MilIerrrrr."

"Wha ... Who me?"

"Yes, you,"

"Who are you? What do you want?"

''I'm the ghost of columns past."

"Right. And I'm Erma Bombeck."

"Tis not a moment for levity. You have much to account for this night."

"Like what?"

"How about your indiscriminate use of poetic license?"

"It's not indiscriminate. I work very hard at it."

"Aha! So you admit to lying in your column."

"Well… not exactly lying. I prefer to call it 'stretching the truth. '"

"And how do you think your family and friends feel about this?"

"They understand."

"Oh, yeah? What about your friend, Mary? Do you know she was kicked out of the Gingerbread Hall of Fame after you credited her with your fiasco?"

"I didn't know that was going to happen. But you must admit it was a funny story. Honesty would have been very dull.”

"So. Let me see if I've got this straight. You'd do anything for a laugh?"

"Well...almost anything."

"And you are going to persist?"

"Of course. I've got job security to think about."

"In that case consider yourself warned. You might be sorry."

With that the hazy form disappeared, leaving me with much to ponder. Perhaps it was time to ease up a bit. So, I made a solemn vow never to poke fun at my friend, Mary, again ...

Well, maybe I would start the next week. First, I wanted to tell all my readers about the strange punch she used to make.
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Have you made resolutions? How long do you normally stick to them? Yesterday at a local pie shop, the owner told a group of customers that she cuts way back on her pies in January because so many folks go on diets. She joked about how production always picks up in February. According to stats compiled by the University of Scranton, only 8% of people keep their resolutions. Wow, I thought the number would be higher. 

More Fun for New Year's

This is another excerpt from my humorous memoir, A Dead Tomato Plant and a Paycheck. Enjoy....And have a very Happy New Year.

As the last days of the year wound down, our thoughts turned to New Year’s Eve parties and the inevitable aftermath on New Year’s Day. I preferred going to someone else’s party as it was a lot easier to bring a snack to share then clean my whole house and prepare a bunch of food.. Plus, I needed time to think about my New Year’s resolution for the year.

Normally, when it came to  resolutions, I tried not to demand too much of myself, preferring to do something simple like giving up escargot. But one year, in the interest of strengthening my character, I decided it was time to exercise a little self-discipline. I swear it had nothing to do with the strange dream I had the week prior.

In the dream, a cloudy apparition hovered over the foot of my bed and called my name, “Maryann MilIerrrrr."

"Wha ... Who me?"

"Yes, you,"

"Who are you? What do you want?"

''I'm the ghost of columns past."

"Right. And I'm Erma Bombeck."

"Tis not a moment for levity. You have much to account for this night."

"Like what?"

"How about your indiscriminate use of poetic license?"

"It's not indiscriminate. I work very hard at it."

"Aha! So you admit to lying in your column."

"Well… not exactly lying. I prefer to call it 'stretching the truth. '"

"And how do you think your family and friends feel about this?"

"They understand."

"Oh, yeah? What about your friend, Mary? Do you know she was kicked out of the Gingerbread Hall of Fame after you credited her with your cake fiasco?"

"I didn't know that was going to happen. But you must admit it was a funny story. Honesty would have been very dull.”

"So. Let me see if I've got this straight. You'd do anything for a laugh?"

"Well...almost anything."

"And you are going to persist?"

"Of course. I've got job security to think about."

"In that case consider yourself warned. You might be sorry."

With that the hazy form disappeared, leaving me with much to ponder. Perhaps it was time to ease up a bit. So, I made a solemn vow never to poke fun at my friend, Mary, again ...

Well, maybe I would start the next week. First, I wanted to tell all my readers about the strange punch she used to make.

Book Review: Sitting on Cold Porcelain by Rose A. Valenta

As a great fan of humor writing, I was eager to get this book for review. It is a collection of short pieces on politics, family, general absurdities, and some social commentary thrown into the mix.

Here is what the promotional blurb has to say about this book:

In Sitting on Cold Porcelain, readers will find an amusing, perceptive, and laugh-out-loud take on the state of our country and our world, on celebrities and politicians, and all the news events that make us roll our eyes and groan.

Its satirical essays include "Giuliani's Gaffe Could Qualify for Political Darwin Award," "Rush Limbaugh: The Don Rickles of Radio," "State of The Union 2010: Bitch-Slapping Congress," "Islamic Cleric Declares Jihad on Mickey Mouse," "Little Egypt to Run Against Sarah Palin," and "Who Moved My Mascarpone?"

You will also find Rose's hysterical consultations with her friend, Mrs. Giordano, a South Philadelphia Malocchio (evil eye) doctor. Mrs. Giordano bloviates in Italian and is the Italian equivalent to the 'Numa Numa Guy' in front of the TV when she watches The O'Reilly Factor.

Some parts of the book did make me chuckle, especially the introduction which explains the title. Perhaps because I could relate? I also really enjoyed the "State of the Union 2010: Bitch-Slapping Congress." Anyone who regularly reads my blog knows I take shots at government all the time, and Rose took some good shots in that piece.

In "Modern Terrorism Techniques" Rose reports that New Zealanbd cleared a shopping mall of unruly teens by piping in music by Barry Manilow.She referred to the music as "the kryptonite of our young people." Then she went on to suggest that certain music could replace water-boarding at Guantanamo as part of President Obama's improved humane policies toward detainees.What a clever idea. I've always thought we women could solve the world's problems if given half a chance.

This is a fun book that can be read all in one sitting, or in short bursts, perhaps instead of reading the back of the cereal box at breakfast. Trust me. This is a much better read. Fans of Erma Bombeck will find some similarities in the writing, and anyone who likes satire will enjoy the book.

Rose A. Valenta is a nationally syndicated humor columnist. Her irreverent columns have been published in Senior Wire, Associated Content, Courier Post Online, NPR, Newsday, USA TODAY, the WSJ Online, and many other local news and radio websites.

She is the author of Rosie’s Renegade Humor Blog. This is the blog for people who would be knowledgeable about current events and politics if only politicians and news anchors didn’t stretch the truth. 

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FTC Disclaimer. This book was sent to me by the author, I'm sure with the hope that I might say something kind about it. But I was not paid or threatened to fulfill that hope. It was just out there waiting for my response.

If Life is a Bowl Of Cherries, What Am I Doing in The Pits?

I remember when I first read Erma Bombeck’s wonderful book I thought she made up all the craziness she wrote about. But I also thought that maybe somewhere in the midst of her jokes would be some tidbit of wisdom that would help me get a handle on the insanity at my house. Alas, all I got was a good laugh.

Looking back on those early years when the kids were young – five between the ages of 7 and 1 – I wonder how we survived with sanity intact. Or maybe that’s the deal. Our sanity is not intact. We only think it is.

But also looking back, I don’t know that I would have changed much about it. Oh, maybe it would have been nice to be rich, or even comfortable financially. I would have loved a bigger house to contain a growing family. And we could have done without some of the turmoil along the way. What I would never want to change, however, is the fun we had, or even the nonsense that became funny long after the fact.

Such as the morning my doorbell rang at six o’clock. I didn’t think anyone would be paying a social call at that hour, so it had to be an emergency. I jumped out of bed, tripped over the dog, stubbed my toe and jump-hopped to the door. Opened said door to see my neighbor, Jessica, holding the hands of my twins. “Do these belong to you?”

Yikes. No doubt. There they were. Paul and Dany dressed in Sesame Street PJs and nothing else. Well, actually they each also had a diaper, hanging low from a night’s accumulation.

“Oh my gosh,” I said, pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t still asleep and having a nightmare.

“I found them walking down the street,” Jessica said. She was holding the twins away from her suit, the effort making her look like a scarecrow—if a scarecrow would ever be dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit.

I reached out to take their hands. “I am so sorry. I have no idea how they got outside.”
Her look said, “Of course not.” But she offered a smile. One of those “we are both women in this rat race together” smiles.

But we weren’t in the same rat race at all.

Jessica, without child, was a financial advisor. She went to work everyday. If we lived in New York and not a suburb of Dallas, she might have been on her way to assault Wall Street in that finely turned out suit. I, on the other hand, was dressed to assault the kitchen in my tee shirt and Capri pants. She didn’t even have a hair out of place – despite the wind whipping down our street at about 25 MPH – and mine was a tangled mess. Her make-up could have been applied by a pro, I didn’t even know where my make up was.

“It’s a good thing I found them,” Jessica said, putting a great deal of emphasis on the “I”. “Otherwise God knows what could have happened.”

“Yes, you’re right.” What else could I say? Her logic was perfect. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I hurried the twins inside before Jessica could say anything else to make me feel lower than a worm.

In the twins’ bedroom, I discovered how the great escape had occurred. The screen was pushed out of the low window facing the porch. No doubt, thanks to Dany. She was the reason there was no furniture in the room and the crib mattresses were on the floor and the bureau was turned against the wall. At nine months of age, Dany had started walking. And climbing. She climbed over the crib rails to get in bed with Paul.

Then she discovered that she could pull the dresser drawers out and use them like a ladder to get to all the interesting stuff on top of the dresser. Forget curtains. She’d pulled them down so many times it wasn’t worth the effort to put them back.

And don’t you dare ask me where the discipline was. I challenge anyone to try to discipline a one-year-old. Especially since most of these shenanigans occurred in the middle of the night. When was I supposed to sleep?

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NOTE* This is more from my new book in progress

My New Book

My husband and I raised five children, and I think we got through the challenges of a large family by using humor. It can pretty well diffuse any situation, although the humor might not always be apparent right away. Some things have to age somewhat before they take on comic proportions.

For instance, spilling a pan of chicken broth on the kitchen floor didn’t make me laugh until I quit sliding past the sink as I took my first step into the room.

It was difficult to laugh about one of my kids storing her unwanted sandwiches in the bench next to the table, especially when it was my neighbor who found them a few weeks later.

It took me a good two weeks to find anything amusing about the youngest two playing dress-up and taking all the clothes off the hangers in their closet.

I was sure I would never see the humor in our son losing one of his tennis shoes or the 15 futile trips he made to the creek to look for it. And to think, when I saw a shoe in the street, I used to wonder how someone could lose just one shoe.

I knew I could live to be at least 90 before I’d laugh about the fact that I couldn’t get my kids to go outside and play until I mentioned that it was time to clean house.

It took six months to see the humor in the time that one of my kids swept the kitchen floor, and later I went in to find six spoons, three bowls, two dried up old sandwiches and the contents of at least two boxes of cereal under the table.

Equally difficult to laugh about was the time that one kid threw his cereal bowl at his brother, who ducked, so the bowl hit the window and broke it.

At least that's the story I got.

I used to wonder if all the spilled milk, chairs covered with soggy cereal, buttered bread dropped on the floor face down, or the macaroni noodles that have squished through my toes as I walked across the kitchen floor, would even qualify as fond memories when I'm old and gray, let alone be funny.

Now that I am both, I’ve decided that all those family escapades are funny. And to tell the truth, they were pretty funny back then, too. In fact, I used to write about the family nonsense in a weekly column. It was along the lines of what Erma Bombeck used to write, and I always thought some day I would combine the collection in a book.

Well, it’s “someday” now.

I'm working on a book that I describe as "The Devil Wears Prada, meets Erma Bombeck." I'm not sure if it will get published. I'll worry about that later. But I sure am having fun going through all the old columns and revisiting the nonsense that we called family.

I'm about halfway through the project, and I will periodically post a segment here when I don't have anything to rant about.